


No extraordinary    Sunday

by TJLC_Johnlockian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angry John Watson, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Jealous John Watson, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Post Mary, Requited Love, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 02:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TJLC_Johnlockian/pseuds/TJLC_Johnlockian
Summary: It was no extraordinary Sunday morning at 221B Baker Street. Everything went as usual.John got up at 9am, went downstairs and found his flatmate/genius already awake and highly concentrated on a new experiment.But a single sound would change it all very soon.





	No extraordinary    Sunday

It was no extraordinary Sunday morning at 221B Baker Street. Everything went as usual. John got up at 9am, relishing in the pleasure of sleeping in on his free day, went downstairs and found his flatmate/genius already awake and highly concentrated on a new experiment. 

“Good Morning Sherlock, I assume you haven‘t slept last night?“

It was a rhetorical question, because John already knew it to be the truth. His flatmate was still in the same position he had been in last night, sitting at their kitchen table and looking through his microscope, while sporadically taking notes.

He also knew Sherlock wouldn’t bother answering that question, since it was so obvious, even John was able to deduce from the state of his clothes and the slight tremor in his hands, that Sherlock hadn‘t slept.  
John also didn’t bother asking Sherlock whether he wanted some tea. He just put on the kettle and made two mugs of hot tea with milk, one with sugar.  
John didn‘t get much of a reaction besides a barely audibly huff, as he set the mug next to his microscope. So he decided to take a long and nice shower and enjoy the peace and quiet he still had until Sherlock was done with his experiment and suddenly realized he was bored.  
As you see, there was nothing unusual on that particular Sunday morning.

Yet.

It happened right after John had stepped out of the shower, dried himself off and put on his bathrobe.  
Just as he opened the bathroom door, he heard it. That one sound he dreaded the most. Other people might have laughed or gotten embarrassed by it, but not he. No, he was furious. He was furious because he knew what it meant. It wasn’t just a sound. It was an indication of what had happened or might happen soon. It was the indication that Sherlock did have feelings. Feelings for some one else.

“Was that ... ?“  
John didn’t even dare to finish his question.  
Sherlock sat with his back to him, so he did not see his best friend’s eyes go wide and the color drain from his face.  
He did see though, that Sherlock startled, even just a little bit, but it was indication enough. He probably felt guilty, because he knew how John felt about him. Of course he knew, even ordinary people could see it, so Sherlock must have had to be blind, not to pick up on it too. Here John was, madly in love with his flatmate, while Sherlock didn’t even feel remotely close to how he felt. That had been established on their very first day at Angelo‘s, when Sherlock had turned him down.  
That was okay though, because John could tell himself that Sherlock just didn’t feel things, the way normal people did. He wasn’t able to feel love. Or maybe he was, but he chose not to.

Of course John had kind of always known, that that was not actually true, but he had hoped he had gotten over Sherlock when the day came that he found out Sherlock did have a heart.  
The day was apparently today and John was as deep in love with his flatmate as ever.  
But his stupid, annoying, wonderful, perfect arse of a flatmate had chosen The Woman over him. Somehow the fact, that it was The Woman, of all people, made him very pissed.  
John felt his heart rate speed up and his blood pump through his body in anger. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but remained frozen to the spot.

Sherlock slowly turned around. John could see fear in his eyes for the blink of an eye, until Sherlock caught himself again and schooled his expression to ambivalence.

“Yes, that was a Message from Miss Adler“  
Sherlock said in a calm voice. Too calm to be real.

“Are you going to answer?“

There was a long pause. Sherlock averted his gaze and stared at the wall ahead of him, ignoring John’s stern eyes that currently seemed to bore holes into his face.

“So you guys are texting now? What’s next? You gonna meet her again?“

“I already have“ came the reply. Sherlock’s voice was all but a whisper now and he didn’t dare look into the older man‘s eyes. He was too afraid of what he might find in them.

If John thought he couldn’t have gotten any angrier, well he could. And he did. With two long steps he strode over to Sherlock and stopped mere inches from where he was still seated in his chair. He grabbed Sherlock by the collar, which earned him a high pitched gasp and dragged him over to the nearest wall. He pinned Sherlock‘s hands with his left hand over the younger man’s head and fixated him with his body. Now the fear was very visible in the detective‘s clear green eyes, but John didn’t care. He was so angry.

How could he do that? How could he play with his feelings, when he knew how terrible John felt already? How could he be such an insufferable prick and still somehow make John fall head over heels in love with him?

“You are the worst Sherlock! The absolute fucking worst!“

Sherlock winced and squirmed, trying to free himself from John’s grip, but John didn’t give in.

“you know how hard it is for me to look at you every day? Not to lose my mind over your manipulative little games? I’m always on edge because of you. You ruined me, Sherlock!“ 

“I‘m sorry John, I ...“

“Don‘t you fucking dare apologize to me right now!“ John growled at him, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Sherlock closed his mouth, clearly in shock now. Tears started filling in his eyes and made their way down his cheeks, leaving wet tracks as they went.

John closed his eyes. He couldn’t see Sherlock cry. He never cried, why would he cry now? He didn’t even care about John’s feelings, he clearly didn’t care before, why would he care now? Was it another game of his? To stop John from yelling and put an end to their fight? Or was he really hurt? John couldn’t make it out. God it was so frustrating.

He hit the wall right next to Sherlock’s face in his anger, making Sherlock jump and wince once more.  
John lowered his head, leaving his forehead leaning slightly onto Sherlock’s chest, while he let go of his hands, his right hand remaining in the wall next to Sherlock’s face.

It felt like a little eternity, in which neither of them spoke, nor moved. As their breaths started to come even again, John felt Sherlock shifting slightly. That was it. He had screwed it all up. Sherlock was scared of him and would probably  
never speak to him again.  
Before John could think anything else though, Sherlock’s hand had landed on John’s neck and used just a little bit of pressure, to signal for John to lean his head onto his shoulder. They both slowly drew closer to one another, until they were fully embraced in each other’s arms.  
They stayed like that for a while, until Sherlock decided to break the silence.

“I‘m an idiot, John.“

John hummed. He didn’t know why Sherlock had stayed with him. He had expected him to leave the minute John had let go of his hands. He was too tired to question Sherlock’s actions though. So he stayed silent, feeling as if he were in a daze. He didn’t care why Sherlock held him. Maybe he felt sorry for him or maybe he felt guilty. It didn’t matter though. John was happy with where he was and as long as neither of them moved, he couldn’t wish for anything better.

“I‘m sorry I didn‘t tell you about Irene.“

John tensed up. He didn’t want to talk about her anymore. He didn’t want to hear, that Sherlock had fallen in love. That she was the one for him and that she made him happier than anyone ever could. He didn’t want to hear that Sherlock would leave him to be with her. He didn’t want to hear that.  
But Sherlock just tangled his fingers into John’s hair and massaged his scalp, effectively calming him again.  
John sighed.

“I did meet with her John, but it was different than you think. She had started texting me after you got married. At first I ignored her, as I had always done. But I was so lonely John. Every one around me seemed to have some one and I, well I used to have you, but ...“

“You always had me. Even after I got married. One call from you and I would’ve been there. One word Sherlock. That’s all I would’ve needed to come back to you.“

“Yes, I know that now. I was too hurt to see it though. I felt betrayed and alone, that‘s why I texted her back. I didn’t mean for anything to happen, but somehow it did.“

“Do you love her?“ John looked straight into Sherlock’s eyes, warning him not to lie.

Sherlock frowned.  
“I don’t. It was just a way to feel appreciated again.“

“And loved“  
John added, his face clearly mirroring the hurt he felt.

Sherlock snorted.  
“I don’t care for Irene, John. And I can safely assure you, she doesn’t care for me either. As I‘ve told you before: Women are not my area!“

“For fuck‘s sake Sherlock, stop being so mysterious. If it‘s not Irene, then who is it? Because I can’t take it anymore. I can’t just delete my feelings for you and act like it’s all fine. It’s not, not for me. I can’t stand the thought of you being with some one else. I’m sorry Sherlock, but I ...“

John was abruptly cut off, as Sherlock cupped John’s cheeks with both hands and pressed his lips to John‘s. John let out a surprised gasp. He froze for a few seconds, before he finally recovered and kissed back. It was a simple kiss at first. Just a hard, but lovely pressing of lips. That grew into a more tender, but also more passionate kiss, as Sherlock flicked his tongue over John‘s upper lip, asking for entry, which was granted with a low moan on John‘s behalf. As their tongues finally met, Sherlock shuddered. He fumbled with the belt of John‘s bathrobe and let his hand‘s explore John’s naked chest and back, as he finally managed to open it.

John had one hand fisted on Sherlock’s collar, the other roaming through his dark mop of curls. Christ were they soft. What kind of conditioner did Sherlock use?

Sherlock’s hand wandered from John’s shoulder over the small of his back and finally settled on John’s butt. They both moaned into the kiss at the contact. He squeezed one butt cheek experimentally - Sherlock loved experiments in every field apparently - which caused John‘s hips to thrust up and bring both their now visibly hard erections together.  
It was all too much and still not enough in a fascinating way.

They had to break their kiss to come up for air, which had been totally neglected from when the innocent press of lips had turned into so much more.

They were both panting, when their eyes finally locked, pupils blown from want, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from kissing.

“I guess we are both idiots now, hm?“  
John asked grinning, giving Sherlock another peck on the lips.

“Appears so“ Sherlock said, smirking back at John.

“Well, what do you say we‘ll take this over to the bed and spend the remaining Sunday, dressed in nothing but our bedsheets and watch crap telly?“

“Sounds like a usual Sunday afternoon to me“  
Sherlock said cheekily, as he took John’s hand and led their way to his bedroom.

Sherlock would be proven to be right. After their first Sunday spent in their bedroom, and afterwards on their sofa to watch crap telly, it started to become some sort of habit. Soon enough, every Sunday started to look like this. Maybe it wasn’t that much of an extraordinary Sunday after all.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so I‘m sorry for any misspellings or mistakes.  
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
